


A Forever Birthday Gift

by arlenejp



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlenejp/pseuds/arlenejp
Summary: For a June prompt.Its Sherlocks birthday but he thinks John doesn't know about it. John surprises him with a gift.





	A Forever Birthday Gift

Aha! After all these years living with the world's only consulting detective, I have finally figured out when his birthday is. 

It's June, and the date is now May fifteenth.

What to do for him? Surprise party? Nah, he'd get everyone angry with him.

Jewelry, nope. He would put it away and never wear it.

Clothes? I cannot afford the ones he would even think to wear.

* * *

It's a few days later, and I happen to be having a drink with Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade at a local pub. 

We have become drinking buddies as of late. Well, at least since Greg divorced his wife. Gives both of us a chance to get out.

          "Greg, Sherlocks birthday is in June. He doesn't know I know. I want to get something for him, but I'm utterly stumped. What do you think?"

At this point, Greg takes a big swig of his beer, sets it down, looks at me straight in the face, shock written there.

          "What the fuck, John. You know what Sherlock would want! Why are you waiting? Give it to him."

Now it's my turn for the swig of beer. I look down at the bar, afraid to speak.

          "Aww, come on John. Man up to it. You know what I mean."

          "Yes I get the drift. I'm so afraid if I guess wrong he will throw me out and I'll lose him altogether."

          "John you're a damn fool! Both of you are so afraid. Why not write a letter to him?"

          "Good thought."

And with that, the subject is dropped.

* * *

That next evening that Sherlock and I are at home, I pick up my laptop to start the letter. Wait a minute! I can't write it on this. Sherlock takes my laptop when he wants, and he'll see it.

* * *

Finding a pencil and paper in this place is not easy. So much paperwork is lying around.

I finally find one, and I say goodnight to Sherlock.

He looks up, sees what's in my hand, very puzzled.

          " Why do you need those, you have a laptop to write on?"

Cannot think of what to say, so I don't say anything.

          "Night, going up early," and leave.

* * *

In my room, I start, erase, start, erase again. This is not going to be easy.

* * *

I think I'll put it away and use tomorrow to think more about the letter and get back to it in the evening.

* * *

All the next day while at work I plan it out, changing the wording over and over again in my head.

* * *

Once at the flat and having had something to eat with Sherlock, I pick up the pad and pencil, sit in my seat and begin to scribble a few words.

Sherlock is up and trying to look over my shoulder as he surreptitiously tries to see what I'm up to.

          "A bit of privacy would be nice, you know."

Putting the writing paraphernalia down I take up the newspaper, knowing it will have to be done in my room. And I'll take it with me when I go to the clinic.

* * *

My letter writing begins:

          _Sherlock, first of all, Happy Birthday. Yes, I do know when it is, even though you have tried to hide it from me. I thought about taking you out to dinner, but you pick at your food so that would not interest you. But I still will do it. I asked Greg to find a good murder case, but nobody is murdering anyone lately._

_What could I do but write a letter to you, expressing what you mean to me and, oh, I don't know! I'm finding this as hard to write as it is to say it to you._

_Over these few years, you have rescued me in more ways than you realize. From the first day when I shot (don't tell Greg) the cabbie to now. There has always been something that fascinates me about you. Your analytical mind, your looks ( yes, your looks) your ability to drive people crazy with your rudeness.(including me)._

_This is not what I want to say. Oh shit, Sherlock, you are enough to drive anyone away from you! Why I haven't run is something I can't explain.----_

* * *

A knock on the door and I know it's none other than Sherlock. 

          "John, what the hell are you doing in there? Come watch some telly with me."

Putting the paper in my coat jacket, I head downstairs. Sherlock sizes me up, trying to figure out what I'm doing. His pouting look saying, 'What are you cooking up?'

I ignore it all, make us some tea, and we spend the rest of the evening with a comedy and a murder mystery show.

All the while having Sherlock yell at the tv and deduce every little thing. Sometimes I laugh so hard at the absurdity of it.

* * *

My letter writing notepad finds it's way under my pillow every night, so you know who won't get to it. 

I even take it into the bathroom when I shower the next morning. Talk about being paranoid!

But, I know my Sherlock. He knows something is up and will try to ferret it out.

* * *

The next day at the clinic I have a lunch break and out comes the notepad.

_Sherlock, I have always hollered to anyone who could hear that I wasn't gay. Guess you could say I wasn't going to go the route that my sister Harry has. The problems she had with my parents, well, enough about that._

_But, in all honesty, I am not gay. No, I am not. I am just gay for you._

_In plain English, Sherlock, I am in love with you. I want to shag you into the end of time._

_Sherlock Holmes, the best birthday gift I can think to give you is this; I am in love with you._

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY._  
_John Watson._

* * *

I don't look at it anymore because I will keep trying to rewrite it.

* * *

Not knowing Sherlock's exact birth date I decide on June sixteenth.

I let Sherlock know we're going to Angelo's Italian restaurant for that night.

* * *

At the restaurant, Angelo has been prepped by me. He sets out a candle and the wine, and we order the food.

          "Sherlock we are having dessert so save some room." 

* * *

It's dessert time and I'm uneasy.

* * *

Angelo and staff walk out with an Italian cheesecake, a lit candle on it and sing happy birthday.

Sherlock has the good grace to smile and not make any off the wall remarks.

          "John, this is all so silly you know."

          "Not to me, it isn't. And I have a special present for you. Sit down in your chair please."

I get down on my knees in front of him and take out my declaration.

He opens it, reads it, places it on his lap, picks it up and reads it again.

          "John Watson, what can I say but I love you. And want to shag you til the end of tomorrow and beyond."

I smile, nod my head, we both stand, and I finally can give my Sherlock the kiss I have always wanted to.

That is the greatest birthday gift I have ever given my Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
